Running Venilale
Yesterday I ran across a river with one goal in mind. After living in my subdistrict, Venilale1, for almost two years, I finally ran in each of its eight suku (the administrative level below subdistricts).
Before joining the Peace Corps, running was one of my favorite ways to spend free time. I particularly liked going on long runs because of the time it gave me to think and, in a weird way, relax. Preparing for half marathons in Amman, Aqaba, and Lisbon gave me a goal and something to work towards. Joining the Peace Corps and coming to Timor-Leste, I knew I wanted to continue to run regardless of the challenges my new life and environment would present. And so, as I packed my two allotted suitcases, I made sure to bring a brand-new pair of running shoes. Going for my first run at my pre-service training site in the mountains just south of Dili, I quickly learned that running in Timor would not be the same as running back in the U.S.
The first challenge was finding routes that worked. What seemed like the most obvious or optimal route would not always be so. Countless times, my training host family would warn me not to run on the other side of the river or to only run in loops around the town. Even after finding a route or two that worked for me and satiated my host family's worries, more challenges, both anticipated and unanticipated, arose. Timorese (especially those outside of the capital Dili) are not generally used to seeing people (especially malae2) run for exercise or pleasure, and the attention I would receive running around town was not particularly pleasant during what was intended to be a mindful and relaxing morning activity. And then there are the dogs. Dogs in Timor are not often kept as docile pets, but rather as security. Every time I leave my house for a run, I can be almost certain that I will run into a few very siak (English: angry, ferocious) dogs along the way. They can range from 'all bark no bite' dogs, who just bark very aggressively when you near their home, to the scariest ones who will ravenously chase you a quarter mile down the road, nipping at your ankles. Luckily, I have yet to be bitten but there have been close calls (when bitten we're required to immediately go to Dili to receive a Rabies shot). That being said, some obstacles that I anticipated being a barrier, like limited paved roads, proved to not be big deals. After all, I tell myself, lots of people love and prefer trail running over road running even when they have the choice of the two.
Arriving at my permanent site in Venilale in December 2023, I didn't immediately jump out the door on runs. I wanted to get the lay of the land and give myself time to adjust to my new life. When I did first go out for a run, I stuck to the one paved road which runs from Baucau Vila to Venilale which only left me with two directions to run in. But after not too long, I was straying farther from home and heading down new paths hoping to find a few solid routes. One thing I quickly discovered about running in Venilale is that gone were my days of flat running back in Milwaukee and Madison. The town of Venilale is situated on a mountain top, meaning that in every direction I am either running up or down. This elevation change took some getting used to, but grew on me as it definitely isn't as monotonous as a flat stretch of bike path in Wisconsin. As I expanded my repertoire of running routes around the subdistrict, I thought of a new goal for myself: run in each of the 8 suku that make up the Venilale subdistrict. Now, after 20 months of living here, I've finally accomplished my goal. Part of the joy of running here is turning down new paths that I have never gone down before. Many times, I'll unknowingly run past the house of one of my students who will call out to me, smiling and waving. Sometimes it’s not even a student from my school, but their sibling, parent, or another community member. It makes me happy to be an hours walk away from my house, in a rural and unfamiliar place, and have community members know me and know my name. Two or three times some of my students have joined me on these runs. The first time was serendipitous. I ran past a 12th grader's house and he just decided to jog alongside me. He wasn't wearing athletic clothing or running shoes (in fact he was wearing jeans and Vans) so I thought he'd only stick with me for a bit. But to my surprise he was still with me after a mile, two miles, and three. The next time a few of my other students, who happen to be his neighbors, also joined us.
Running here I've learned to change my mindset. People laugh at me. People think it’s strange. Kids yell MALAE or DAI3 or XINA (they somehow think I and every foreigner they see is Chinese) at me every single time I pass by. Previously things like that would make me upset and annoyed, and of course they still do from time to time (I've told them my name a thousand times!). But taking it in stride (pun intended) connects me to the community in a unique way, and I will sorely miss these runs when I'm back in the U.S. Some of my favorite memories from my Peace Corps service thus far involve the very same kids who once yelled out to me as I ran past, joining me for portions of my runs and kicking my ass while barefoot or wearing flip-flops. Perhaps when I take on a marathon back home, I'll find that I need people yelling DAI-XINE at me or imagine dogs chasing after me to run my hardest.
Obrigadu barak,
Andy
P.S. Apply to be a Peace Corps volunteer in Timor-Leste! Check out these two opportunities and apply before the deadline in October:
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this newsletter are my own and in no way represent the views of the Peace Corps nor the U.S. Government.
https://www.peacecorps.gov/timor-leste/
Venilale Administrative Post (formerly called a subdistrict) is about 155.7km2.
Malae means ‘foreigner’ in Tetun.
Dai means malae or foreigner in the local languages of my area.